Mistletoe & Bastards Read Free Page A

easier to be
brash and rude and keep people at arm’s length than it was to let
them in.
    “—Happy
Christmas.”
    I softened at
the gentle smile on Johnny’s face. It was one I rarely saw and it
made me realise I probably could be a little nicer to these people
I called my friends; loosen up a little. Johnny was always there
for us. As a friend he was the best — loyal, kind, funny. Maybe I
should try to be more like him?
    Eww . Had
I just thought that?
    “It’s kind of
you. Sometimes you must even surprise yourself with such bursts of
generosity. What’s inside?” I pulled the ribbon from the box and
lifted the lid.
    “It’s just a
bit of a laugh.”
    I held the gift
— a t-shirt that matched Johnny’s — in front of me, my eyes taking
in the words and image printed on the front.
    Dear Santa, All
I want for Christmas is enough wine to get me through Christmas.
Please.
    It was like
he’d read my mind and despite the fact that it was an utterly
ridiculous gift, it seemed to have achieved the desired result of
making me lighten up. I felt rather more buoyant than I had two
minutes ago. To know that there was one person in the world who had
gone out of his way to make me smile made me feel warm inside. And
a bit gooey.
    I never felt
gooey.
    I folded the
t-shirt and put it back in the box. Then, leaning over, I kissed
Johnny’s cheek and gave his knee an affectionate rub. “Thanks. You
didn’t have to go to the trouble, but thanks.”
    Johnny’s hand
reached down and came to rest on top of my own. Suddenly, his eyes
were gazing intensely into mine and I noticed flecks of grey within
the vivid blue. I’d never paid that much attention to his eyes
before. They were quite beautiful.
    “Is everything
okay?” he asked, his stare reaching a place inside me I hadn’t
known I possessed. I wished he’d stop. It was unnerving.
    “Why?”
    “You’re off
your game. Normally, you’d have called me a degenerate fuckwit by
now and hit me with my own present.”
    “Normally you’d
be behaving like one.”
    Johnny looked
around the room and raised his glass to our boss. “I’m on my best
behaviour. New job and all that. What’s your excuse?”
    “I hate
Christmas.”
    “Whoa. Big
call. T’is the season to be jolly.” He cocked an ear to the music
and chuckled at his own joke. Then he stilled. “Look, I know how
shitful this time of year is for you. That’s why I got you the
present. I thought it might give you a laugh.”
    That was one
way of putting it.
    “But if I’d
known I was gonna get such a positive reaction — as in lip action —
I’d have bought you the matching bra and knickers. I can see you in
red fur.”
    And there was
the real Johnny Jones.
    “Don’t push
your luck.”
    “So a shag’s
out of the question, then?” His voice was no more than a deep and
raspy whisper that sent tingles of desire through my body,
unlocking a feeling I’d buried a long time back. His blue eyes
began to twinkle with something rather dirty and lustful and for a
minute — only a minute — I was almost tempted.
    Then I
remembered it was Johnny.
    Lothario of the
highest order. Man to never be trusted.
    I straightened
and removed my hand from his knee. “You never let it go, do you?
Tell me again how you managed to weasel your way into my workplace?
There’s at least twenty big name law firms in town, and you choose
mine.”
    “Maybe I
couldn’t stay away from you any longer.”
    “Or maybe no
one else would have you.” I snorted.
    Johnny
shrugged. “Want another drink?”
    I watched as
Johnny handed a couple of notes to the barman who took the glasses
away and replaced them with filled fresh ones. Johnny’s hands were
smooth and large and for a fleeting second my mind began to drift,
wondering how they would feel on my body.
    Eww . Ugh . Stop! I was doing it again. I couldn’t be having lewd
thoughts about Johnny’s hands. It was well, eww . Grabbing
the t-shirt from the box, I jumped off my